


Graveyard Shift

by idontbelieveinmountains



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, Original Statement (The Magnus Archives), Statement Fic (The Magnus Archives), i'm only on season two so please no spoilers!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontbelieveinmountains/pseuds/idontbelieveinmountains
Summary: Unsigned statement based on my actual job cutting grass at a cemetery.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 16





	Graveyard Shift

I don’t believe in ghosts, but I’ve seen things that I cannot explain. 

It all started with the voices. I would hear them sometimes while on the job, always when I was alone in the wide fields of graves. I could never make out the words, but it was always a woman’s voice. I only have two other female coworkers, and they were never anywhere to be seen when I heard it. Sometimes she was laughing.

I work cutting grass at a cemetery, it’s dull mostly and pays enough for me to get by. Usually when people picture a cemetery, their mind conjures up a gloomy old place with cracking stones and crawling vines. It wasn’t like that where I worked though. My workplace was fairly new, well-kept. Lush, green grass spread out as far as the eye could see, yet not a bit of it was overgrown. There was none of that stereotypical darkness either, as I always worked during the day, the sun beating down unbearably from the summer sky. You might think all of this would have comforted me, but instead I always found it to be incredibly unsettling. The place always felt...unnatural. And bright. So bright. 

Strange things would happen on the job sometimes, but they never really bothered me. Doors opening on their own, strange dolls being left at tombstones, the sort that seemed to stare at you as you carefully made sure not to hit them with the trimmer. But nothing ever really scared me. I figured if there were ghosts then they didn’t have anything to gain by causing me harm. So I just went on with my work, as usual. That is, until one day, when we were at one of our secondary locations. 

This cemetery was a much smaller place than the one I usually worked at. I liked it there, it was quiet. The weather was calling for storm clouds that day, but it was already the afternoon and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. My coworkers and I always joked that we wanted lightning to strike so we could go home early. That wasn’t going to happen today, though. 

I was having a rather uneventful day until I heard her again; that voice. I instinctively looked up but as usual, no one was around. I eventually resolved to go back to work until I realized that my coworkers were nowhere to be seen. This would have been normal if not for the fact that we were at the smaller location today. I should have been able to see them from any part of the cemetery, but I couldn’t. I whipped my head around a few times but there was nobody there. I was completely and utterly alone. 

It was at this moment that I smelt it: the storm. The smell that indicates you are about to be surrounded by torrential rains and the threatening rumble of thunder. But when I gazed up at the sky above me, I found that it was impossibly blue. No clouds, just the beaming sun forcing itself on me from all angles. It was so. Very. Bright. 

My heart raced, and it was then that I noticed that my feet no longer stood on solid ground. It took every ounce of courage I had left just to look down. What I saw still projects itself into my mind in the darkest hours of the night when I am trying in vain to fall asleep. I don’t know how else to describe it, but I _swear,_ the ground that housed all of those departed souls was...breathing. I tried to scream, but the only sound that came out of my mouth was the booming crack of thunder. 

I don’t believe in ghosts, but I don’t work at the cemetery anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> "I'm like nah, nah, nah, sister. You're not getting me to no secondary location."


End file.
